


The Life and Times of Reese Davenport

by ravesinthesky



Category: South Park
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5420999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravesinthesky/pseuds/ravesinthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hello. My name's Reese and well... That's pretty much it. Now GTFO."  *This is an OC story*<br/>Rated T for Swearing. None of the slurs used are in my words.<br/>This is a strictly fictional story, and does not express my own views.<br/>Original Characters belong to me. South Park characters belong to Matt and Trey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life and Times of Reese Davenport

Whoever said it takes more face muscles to frown then it does to smile is completely psychotic. No. Seriously. I promise you. A complete fucking nutcase. And also…. Who in the hell said smiling every day makes you happier? Happier my ass. It'll take a lot more than smiling to cheer me up.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed…" All I have to say is… Shut up. Maybe being me is not so bad, but being me sure isn't easy either. At least I have my family, if I can even call what I have a family anymore. I have just enough friends I can handle, and a lovely little pet. He's a garden snake named Noodle if you must know, and I caught him in our backyard last year.

My dad bought me this stupid… whatever. I'm refusing to call this thing a diary, even though that's probably what most girls my age would call it. So my dad bought me this diary thing to write in. He says writing will help sort my feelings out. Whatever the hell that means. I mean, I feel all sorts of things. Hungry, tired, angry. I still don't think a diary can help with that. Technically, nobody's forcing me to write. He's not going to check, or anything. But I guess I'll give this a try. Maybe writing will actually do some good for my sanity. So here goes nothing! Wish me luck!

Dear Diary,

Today's the first day of High School.

I think I might, just, kinda, almost, probably am going to die.

Love, Reese.

(After my signature I drew one of those little less than three hearts)


End file.
